Two Heads Are Better Than One
by Haberdashing
Summary: Transcendence AU. The post-Transcendence adventures of Dippers Three and Four.


The Transcendence hadn't actually affected the lives of Trent and Quinn- the two boys formerly known as Dippers Three and Four, born from a half-hatched plan and a scarily functional copier- all that much. The two had gotten used to searching the woods of Gravity Falls for supernatural strangeness to chronicle in the pages of their beloved journals; after a few days of _holy crap what was that_ , they settled back into the same secretive existence as before, but with more fodder for their journal entries and more adventures to be found just around the corner.

The two checked back on Dipper Classic and Mabel once or twice, hiding behind trees or lying down on rooftops so as to avoid watchful eyes, but didn't learn much from their observations. Something had changed, that much was clear, but they couldn't figure out what.

Then the original twins left Gravity Falls, escorted by their parents to a hometown which Trent and Quinn had given up all hopes of visiting again.

And, slowly but surely, life went on.

There were plenty of creatures to study, plenty of problems to solve, plenty of complex plans and daring escapes to be made... As the adventures went on, so slowly and steadily that they barely noticed it as it happened, the two boys grew up, no longer quite the same as the twelve-year-old who had come to Gravity Falls with his sister so long ago.

The few times that they were both able and willing to get close enough to overhear the conversations of others, Trent and Quinn listened not just to gauge people's reactions to the events of the Transcendence, to the strange creatures that had emerged and taken the world by storm- strange creatures that, they knew, were not entirely unlike themselves- but also for news of their sister, their other self. Unfortunately, such information proved to be sparse at best. As the two boys grew up hiding away in the woods, they knew that the twins were growing up in their old home, but the details continually eluded them.

That is, until they learned one key bit of information: Dipper Classic and Mabel had moved back to Gravity Falls.

Having learned that their duplicate had returned, Trent and Quinn began cautiously, tentatively, stepping out of the shadows.

The two hadn't known quite what to expect when they began to speak to others once more. There would be questions, and awkwardness, and various difficulties, that much they knew. But those vague ideas weren't nearly enough to prepare the two for the reality of others' reactions to their presence.

They had expected Pacifica to be... well, Pacifica, still a little uppity, still a little uncomfortable around him. They hadn't expected Pacifica's first move upon seeing Trent approach her to be slapping him hard across the cheek, with her explanation upon being asked what he had done to deserve such ill treatment consisting solely of the phrase "You know why, you weirdo."

(They avoided Pacifica after that.)

They had expected to be asked why their clothes were so tattered and ill-fitting. They hadn't expected to be asked why they were wearing such casual clothest. (They could could on one hand the times that they'd worn formalwear, and all of these instances had been for special occasions and worn under duress, out of obligation rather than by _choice_.)

They hadn't expected to be asked why they were visible to the townsfolk of Gravity Falls at all.

Something strange was going on, but, try as they might, the two couldn't quite put together the pieces. If there was a pattern to all the strangeness that apparently had befallen their former self, it was proving to be as good at hiding from watchful eyes as the two not-quite-boys were themselves. Theories abounded; truths, less so.

They happened upon the answer to this conundrum quite by chance. The two were chasing after a fairy, one that shined a brilliant lavender light the likes of which neither had ever seen before, in the hopes of finding and studying its abode... when Quinn ran into something.

Or, rather, someone.

"Dipper?"

Quinn looked up, his knee aching from the impact, though he would have known that voice even if he hadn't put a face to its source. It was a voice that he had gone without hearing for far, far too long.

"What's up, bro-bro?"

"Uh..." He and Trent had planned for this moment many a time, coming up with long-winded, eloquent explanations for who they were and why they were here... but, just when that plan was finally needed, the words escaped him. His hands shook as he pushed himself off the ground, and as he looked around for his- clone? brother? twin? friend?- he found that Trent had managed to hide himself away. "Um... well... uh..."

"...wait a minute." Mabel squinted, her eyes wandering as she stared as various parts of his face, and put her hands on her hips. "You're not Dipdops, are you?"

He glanced around again, wide-eyed; Trent had still not come out from whatever hiding spot he had absconded into. Why did he have to face this, of all things, alone, without the one with which he'd faced so much in the last few years? "Not exactly? It's... complicated..."

"Knew it." She stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry; one tiny drop of spittle landed on his arm and sunk its way through. "So, who are you? Another shapeshifting guy? Because that got old, like, a month ago."

"No! I'm- well, I'm kind of your brother, except-"

"Wait a tick. I bet he'll wanna hear this." Mabel picked a scab off of her index finger- he hadn't noticed before how much her hands were covered in scabs and cuts, but there was barely a spot of smooth, unharmed skin left on them- and held the resulting wound against a pattern on her magenta sweater, a pattern which he had never seen before but which held several symbols and shapes that were sickeningly familiar...

And, in the blink of an eye, a floating figure appeared by her side.

A figure wearing a suit and a bow tie and a floating top hat, with pointed ears and fangs and claws.

A figure whose features nonetheless were recognizable at a glance, given how often Quinn had seen much the same appearance reflected off the lake or off storefront windows.

"Dipper Classic?"

The floating figure- like him, and yet not like him- raised an eyebrow. "Mabel, what's going on?"

"You tell me, broseph! I was just walking through the woods when this guy-"

Mabel waved her arm around in Quinn's general direction as he muttered "I'm right here, you know."

"-ran into me out of nowhere, and I thought you might know more than me."

"I don't... think I... Wait, did you say Dipper Classic?"

"Y-yeah?"

The original Dipper laughed, his fang-filled mouth widening. "I know where I've heard that before! Oh, _wow_! Blast from the past!"

Mabel cocked her head to one side, causing several strands of long brown hair to cover her face. "I don't get it."

"But weren't there two of you left?"

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Trent doesn't seem to want to come say hi, the coward-"

Finally, _finally_ , after being thoroughly shamed into it, Trent ran out from- yep, he'd been hiding behind one of the thicker evergreens, what a surprise- his feet squelching with every rapid step. "Shut up, you dorky little whippersnapper!"

"Don't call me a whippersnapper, you fuddy-duddy!" Quinn took the hat off his head, which had long been transformed by dust and dirt and all manner of other filth from white and blue to a nearly-uniform brown hue, and smacked Trent on the shoulder.

Mabel shook her head and sighed, breaking out into a grin.

"Wait. Let me see that hat."

Quinn nodded and held his hat out for the other to see, but his clawed hand couldn't seem to grasp onto it.

"Hmm... Mabel, do you have a tissue or something on you?"

After a moment's search, Mabel came back triumphantly with a crumpled, but seemingly clean, napkin.

"Okay, use that to wipe off the front of the hat-"

She stared down at the napkin and brought it closer to her face.

"- _without_ spitting on it."

Mabel scrunched her nose. "Aww." Still, she did as directed, wiping years of grime off of the front of the cap to unearth an off-white patch on which remained a faint, smudged, number four.

The floating Dipper nodded tersely, satisfied. "Just as I thought. Okay, Mabel, these are Dippers Three and Four-"

"I'm Quinn, he's Trent."

"Alright, Trent and Quinn, then- and I guess you guys already know Mabel, so..."

The two held out their hands and smiled nervously at Mabel.

After staring for a moment, Mabel shook their extended hands enthusiastically before turning back towards the original Dipper, hands on her hips. "Dipdops, you have a _lot_ of explaining to do."


End file.
